


at the edge, falling alone

by waitfortheclick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death, Demons, F/M, Gen, Resurrection, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitfortheclick/pseuds/waitfortheclick
Summary: Ruby dies, active tense.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written about 4 years ago with minimal editing, none recent. Title from a poem http://wonderfulsenses.tumblr.com/post/47564722863/want-more-lovelife-quotes-like-this

I am dying, I know this. There’s the slam, the twist of the knife, then nothing. What happens to demons when we die? We flicker out like a dead bulb in seconds. Impotent electricity. Whatever’s left of us, it doesn’t stick around for long.  

I’m lying, of course, I have no idea what’s happening to me. Who can I ask? Dead girls tell no tales.

This isn’t how the story’s supposed to go. I was the hero, not these jokers. Not these losers standing over my body. Which is funny, I guess, a big joke, because I’m dead and they’re alive. We can never really tell how things will go, and complaining when you’re dead is just laughable. But I still thought, I really did, I thought I’d win. I was winning. I could taste it. Then all I could taste was copper.

Oh but I’m the bad guy. I’m the villain. I am doubly, triply fucked. So many reasons why me bitching is so pathetic I could cry. If I could I would cry.

All I really wanted was a little house on the beach. I’m sure any kind of paradise you could expect from demons would be horrendous. So many wounded people. We thought if only we could get away from the heat, we’d be good. We’d be clean. I wonder.

But all I wanted was a little house on the beach. No, not a lake. Not an ocean of fire. Real water with real salt. I wanted to breathe the brine in the air without it burning my lungs. I wanted to eat french fries without coughing up blood.

People would have died, sure, but you have to break a few eggs, right? I died. Death isn’t necessarily final, or even the end. There are so many times you can die again.

I had dreams, too. I had hopes, goals, aspirations. Get it? I had aspirations. It’s a joke, you should laugh.

I really wanted him, isn’t that funny? I wanted him with me, in that little house. I thought he wanted that, too. I guess I shouldn’t have expected so much. I didn’t even ask. Did I love him? Does it matter? You don’t do that to someone you love. But don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not that repentant. He held my arms. He let the knife go in.

Men will promise and promise paradise but you can’t listen. You have to go back farther. Only Gods can deliver. How could a young woman make a deal with the Devil? Well, consider my alternative: marry a dimwitted farmer’s son, become a farmer’s wife with coarse hands and screaming children, die during childbirth or from a rat bite or because everyone shits in the water.

All that happened, yes, but with a little more magic. If it was a rat bite or fetid water, who knows. It was probably both. Funny how the magic didn’t make any of it glamorous, or ultimately keep death away.

Was it all worth it? That demon wasn’t making house calls, you know. I knew what I was doing. I made an informed decision. I want to not regret it. I got twenty more years out of it.

Light is filling the room, I am fading.


End file.
